Always Returning
by doopdoop2
Summary: Bakugou loses his Quirk. He decides to make a clean break, put everything behind him and move somewhere far away. But before he can do that, there's one person he needs to see.


**Note:** How Bakugou lost his Quirk is really not important to this story, but in my head I'm imagining it was a villain with a Quirk-stealing Quirk who was then killed accidentally, thus leaving Bakugou permanently Quirkless. That's probably not even possible, but just work with me here.

* * *

His possessions, the few he hadn't thrown out or given away, had been condensed down to two suitcases. He'd spent the last week cleaning his apartment - scrubbing the oven and the floors, sticking putty in the holes in the walls he'd drilled to hang things months or years ago. Everything was ready for his imminent departure; tomorrow he'd be returning his key, never to set foot in this place again.

There was just one thing left to do before Bakugou could leave the city. Just more person he had to see.

His life had brought him to and from Midoriya, away and apart, again and again. When they were reunited it always felt like nothing had changed. After graduating from U.A. they'd spent years at different agencies, only to end up living only a few streets apart when Bakugou got a new job. They'd run into each other by chance at the grocery store, and had hung out, at Midoriya's insistence, at least every other week since then. That was over a year ago, and that was all it had been - lunches, sometimes dinners, occasionally movies or sports games, twice or three times a month.

There had always been chemistry between them. When he was younger, Bakugou had channeled the pent-up feelings into hate and obsession, but as he grew up and mellowed he finally saw them for what they were. But, even after realizing it, there had always been time. They were young; it had only bothered Bakugou a little to see Midoriya be with other people. He knew, after all, that they would always come back to each other, the way the seas were pulled by the tides - a rhythm deeper than either of them understood. So it had never mattered before, that they were apart. The time just hadn't come yet. Bakugou and Midoriya both dated and slept around, and it was fine, because there was always time. It would come.

But this was it. This was _it. _The end of the line. Bakugou's things had been packed, his lease cancelled. His job, obviously, was long gone. His plane departed the following afternoon.

His hands shook as he rang the doorbell. He heard the scurry of footsteps from inside, and held his breath, waiting; it was only a few seconds until the door flew open.

Midoriya didn't seem surprised to see him. His mouth was a straight line, his eyes large and serious. He didn't know why exactly Bakugou was there, of course, but he must have known this visit would come. "Come in."

They sat down in the living room. The chairs were nice, Bakugou thought. It felt homey, but empty. Not really lived in. All the furniture still felt new, like Midoriya hadn't even gotten to break it in yet. "I'll cut right to the chase," Bakugou said, staring at the rug. "I'm moving."

"Do you need a place to stay?" Midoriya asked. "I've got space. You can stay here for-"

"No!" Of course he'd assume that. Bakugou shook his head. "No, I don't need a place. I'm leaving the city."

"Where - where are you going?"

"I don't know," Bakugou said, and it wasn't a lie. His plan was to fly to the other side of the country and travel around, job-hunting, exploring. Take the time to see the world outside of this goddamn city. "I plan to stay at hotels for a while, til I find some place I wanna settle down. Mostly I just wanna get away from here."

"When you've decided on a place, will you tell me where you end up?"

"Why, so you can follow me there? The point is to get _away _from everyone I know." The words stung, Bakugou could see, but Midoriya should have expected a response like that. "If I still get recognized there, I'll probably leave the country. Go to China, maybe, or America."

"Kacchan-!" Midoriya looked so sad that for a moment Bakugou wondered if he'd start to cry. "It's not the end of the world, not having a Quirk."

"Oh, that's rich, coming from you. The one who wanted a Quirk so badly he didn't care if it broke every bone in his body. You should know better than anyone else that it _is _the end of the world for a hero. If All Might hadn't come along, would you be a hero now, you think?"

Midoriya bit his lip, but said nothing. After a moment Bakugou stretched his arms and sighed. "Look, the real reason I'm here is to tell you the shit I was too scared to say before. It's now or never, right? You get what I mean?"

Midoriya knew - he had to know. They were so close Bakugou sometimes felt they were on the same wavelength, that they could read each other's minds. Bakugou had spent years hating Midoriya for understanding him better than he understood himself. "If this hadn't happened, we probably could have been - something. But I missed that chance. My own fucking fault, really."

Midoriya was staring at him with an expression Bakugou could only describe as _broken _\- a mixture of shock and sadness and pain. It was so dramatic Bakugou could have laughed, but he was nervous, too. His hands were _still _shaking. "Say something," he grumbled at last, hating the silence, the way he could hear Midoriya's breaths.

"Kacchan - I never-"

"You _did _know, asshole, don't say you didn't!" Bakugou snarled. "I _know _you felt the same. Feel the same. All those times you made me get lunch or dinner with you - look, I know what it feels like, to flirt with someone. That's what we were doing, wasn't it? Flirting?"

He knew this was not the way Midoriya wanted this to go down. It wasn't how Bakugou wanted it, either. He would have preferred more subtlety, and certainly less anger. And of course, he hated the underlying knowledge that tainted everything - they had one shot. One day, one night. No more.

"So what do you want from me, now?" Midoriya said. "Telling me like this… it's cruel, Kacchan!"

"Would you rather I hadn't told you? Skipped town without saying goodbye?"

Midoriya looked at him with such anger in his eyes - he was definitely close to tears, Bakugou thought - but said nothing.

"Here's what I want," Bakugou went on. "I want one night with you. I wanna know what could have been, if this hadn't…" He gestured to himself. The words were stuck in his throat, but he knew Midoriya would grasp his meaning. "Then I go my way, you go yours, we move on. Just gotta - gotta get this out of our systems. We both knew it was going to happen sometime, and this is the one chance we've got left."

The last two sentences came out sounding suspiciously like pleas. Bakugou hadn't realized how much he wanted this until he heard the near-whine in his own voice. Midoriya wiped his eyes and looked more closely at him; Bakugou knew it was obvious that he cared too much, and felt himself bristling in anticipation of whatever Deku would say to try and comfort him.

"You really don't have to leave." Midoriya's voice was much steadier than Bakugou had expected. "Just because you don't have a job anymore doesn't mean you have to go somewhere else. You cancelled your lease - so what? Move in here. For now, until you get back on your feet."

"None of that has _anything _to do with why I'm moving," Bakugou said, his voice raw with emotion, and he felt the catch in his throat that meant he himself was close to crying. Fuck. "It isn't not having a job. You think I don't have savings? You think my parents didn't offer to put me up? No, you useless piece of shit, it's that I can't live in the same city where I've been a hero for years, the same city where every goddamn hero knows me as that idiot who lost his Quirk. _Oh, poor little Bakugou. I feel sooooo bad for him! _Well, fuck that."

Midoriya held very still. "I see," he said, after a pause.

"Do you? Then you understand why I can't stay in this city one more week. One more _day. _I can't show my face here. God forbid something happens and I need a hero to save me-"

"Kacchan-"

"I want to go. Izuku, I _want _to go." The name had slipped out without him meaning to say it, but he couldn't take it back, and tried to ignore the look of genuine shock that flitted across Midoriya's face. "I want a fresh start. I hardly even know who I am without my Quirk. I can't learn that here. It's like… it's like a bad breakup, you know? You can't keep living in the same house you shared with someone, 'cause everything reminds you of them. Well, my Quirk dumped me, and now I'm single and I need to find out who I am without that fucking bitch."

Midoriya froze for a moment, then began to laugh. "Kacchan," he said, wiping his eyes again - Bakugou didn't know if those tears were from sadness or laughter or both - "Kacchan, you were right, you know."

"About what?"

"There _was _always something between us. On my side it was ever since U.A. But you gave me a complex, Kacchan - it was years before I could see myself as your equal. You taught me to see myself as less than you, and it took so long to unlearn."

Bakugou said nothing. He hadn't come here intending to have this discussion, but it made sense that, in the interest of finding closure, Midoriya would want to talk about this. Midoriya needed to have his loose ends tied up, too.

"When I realized at last that I had feelings for you, it was tangled up in that other stuff," he went on. "It wasn't until after we graduated that I began to realize, hey, maybe Kacchan actually does like me, after all this time. And I still like him. And those lunches and dinners and everything - yeah, I wanted them to be dates."

"Then they were," Bakugou said, grinning despite himself. "If you wanted it, and I wanted it, we can say they were."

"No one has affected me like you have. No one," Midoriya said. "Everything seems to come back to you. I don't think I will ever get over you. I don't think anyone will ever mean what you mean to me."

Bakugou was glad Midoriya had said it. It was what he was trying to say all along, but he wasn't as good with words. It felt eerie to hear - as if Midoriya had taken Bakugou's feelings and expressed them more clearly, more eloquently.

"So, Kacchan, that's why I have to say no."

A beat. Bakugou blinked. "What?"

"Kacchan, I mean it - I will never get over you. And if we sleep together and then you leave, I have no doubt it will only hurt more." He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it sticking up unevenly. "But I also understand why you need to leave. I think… I think I would feel the same way."

"So that's it, then?" Bakugou said, not even bothering to keep the disappointment from his voice. "Just going to say _see you later _and send me on my way?"

"No, I'm coming with you."

For the second time in less than a minute Bakugou felt a thrill of surprise jolt through him. "What?"

"I want to follow you. You - you can take whatever time you want, whether it's a week or a month or a year. Pick a town, find a job, get settled. And then I'll move there, too."

Bakugou's mouth felt so dry he could hardly speak. "Deku, are you fucking serious? What if I get a job in - in - in some little hick town, or in America, or, I don't know, on a ship?"

"I'll go to a little hick town, or America," Midoriya said. "Those places will still have hero work, I'm sure. If you live on a ship, I'll live in a port town, and you can visit me."

"Are you serious?"

"Completely. I mean every word." Midoriya was no longer crying, although his eyes were still red. He no longer looked sad - he looked determined. Bakugou had learned early on to fear that expression when it was directed at him.

"I have no hope of escaping you, do I?"

"You don't want to," Midoriya said, smiling. "If you did, you wouldn't have come here." His face grew a little more serious. "Kacchan, if you want, I can leave you alone. For as long as you need, or forever. Of _course _I can. But you were the one who came to me today, telling me about my own feelings for you - so I'm just returning the favor. You can leave the city, the country even, but I don't think you really want to leave me."

"You have a damn good job here. You shouldn't leave it for me," Bakugou said, and he knew he was showing weakness, knew the fact that he was close to giving in was clear. Midoriya picked up on it too. It was visible in his little half-smile, in the way he straightened his spine and stared Bakugou down. Midoriya was winning this fight.

"I would rather leave it than ask you to stay."

"Or for us to go our separate ways."

"Of course."

"You really - you'd choose me?"

"Kacchan, I'd choose you over everything. I love you." Midoriya even had the gall to look faintly surprised, as if the words had slipped out against his will. "It isn't really a choice."

"I'm not getting rid of my plane ticket," Bakugou said. "I'm still flying out tomorrow."

"But you won't leave me behind?"

Bakugou hesitated only a moment. "I don't think I can," he said, smiling. "Not for long."

* * *

When they did make their way to the bedroom, it felt almost ceremonial. Midoriya led the way. Bakugou, close on his heels, felt as if he had stepped out of his body and was watching himself - logically he knew the situation was real, but it did not _feel _real. It was something he'd imagined so many times that for it to be happening at last felt like yet another daydream.

Midoriya's bedroom, Bakugou was happy to note, had far less All Might memorabilia than when he'd seen it last. There were still some action figures on display, but the the walls of posters were gone. He hardly had time to observe his surroundings, though, because all of a sudden he was sitting on the bed next to Midoriya, who was looking at him with wide eyes, waiting for him to make a move.

"We don't have to do anything," Bakugou said, his own voice sounding gruff to his ears. Suddenly his earlier words about spending one night together sounded less tragically romantic and more embarrassing. "Like, we don't have to do anything at all. Really."

"Katsuki," Midoriya said, and, oh God, Bakugou felt the word in every fiber of his body. "I do want to."

"Then what are you waiting for?"

Midoriya was close, so close. Bakugou could see every freckle on his face, the soft curve of his lips. He saw the wrinkles at the corner of Midoriya's eyelids when he smiled. "You don't need to be nervous," he said, and before Bakugou could even open his mouth to protest, Midoriya kissed him.

It wasn't Bakugou's first kiss, nor Midoriya's, but to Bakugou it had the feeling of one: a weight, a heaviness. His hands, sitting uselessly in his lap, twisted around each other, clammy and cold. The two of them broke apart after only a second, Midoriya's eyes half-closed and dark.

"I can lead," he said, no louder than a whisper, "but I need to know what you want."

"Anything," Bakugou said. "Everything." He swallowed, feeling suddenly very hot. "Whatever… whatever you want. Whatever you want to do to me."

"I've never been with another man before," Midoriya said. "So I might not be…"

"It's fine," Bakugou said quickly. It finally hit him that he was not the only nervous one. Midoriya certainly felt the same pressure, the same need to not fail. "Look, I'm sorry I made this all dramatic and shit earlier. It's not - it's not like - I won't be mad at you if we don't actually-"

Midoriya stood. For a second, Bakugou thought he was going to leave; then he turned to face Bakugou and straddled him, still fully clothed. It was nearly overwhelming to have so much of him so close, and Bakugou felt awed; he ran his hands up and down Midoriya's body, touching the curves and lines of his body, the thickness of the muscles in his back and chest and stomach.

They kissed again, Midoriya leading the way, Bakugou letting himself be passive. That was what he wanted: to let himself go, to let himself be touched and kissed and fucked, if it came to that. He did not want to act, to do, not today. He felt burned out, used up, weary.

After a few minutes Midoriya stood again and stripped his shirt off, then tugged at Bakugou's own. He maneuvered Bakugou so he was lying on the bed on his back, then straddled him again. Bakugou could feel how hard he was, and that lit something in him; he clutched at Midoriya's back again and pulled him down into another kiss, messy and rough.

"Let me take your pants off, Kacchan," Midoriya said, breathless, when finally they separated. "I want to touch all of you." Bakugou could not say no to that, not that he wanted to, and in an instant later he was completely naked with a just-as-naked Midoriya looming above him, biting his lip, his face flushed.

"Kacchan, can I…"

"You can anything," Bakugou said, leaning back against the pillow. He was hot all over, burning with anticipation and nerves. "Anything you want. I want it too."

He was staring at the ceiling, but heard Midoriya take a deep breath. A second later Bakugou felt pleasure, hot and wet - Midoriya's mouth. He groaned.

"Is it okay?" Midoriya said, pulling away. "Like I said, I've never done this with a guy!"

"God, just - don't stop," Bakugou said. "Feels great." It was somehow easier to say when he muttered it into the back of his hand, as if the words weren't as embarrassing if they were quiet.

"Good." And without another word Bakugou felt Midoriya take him in his mouth again. Not the best blowjob he'd received, not the most skillful, but God, did it ever get him going to think,_That's Deku down there - that's Izuku -_

Bakugou was barely conscious of how hard he was moaning. Every exhale was loud, loud enough that under other circumstances he would have felt ashamed of himself; but somehow he was past shame, past anything but the feel of his body and the places it touched Midoriya's.

"Does it feel good, Kacchan?"

Bakugou could have punched him, he really could have, but he felt weak all over still, tired and passive, and he was too wrapped up in pleasure besides; so he just lifted his head and said, "Shut the fuck up, you know it does."

"I - do you want to-"

"Spit it out!"

"Do you want to go all the way?"

It made Bakugou stupidly angry, the way Midoriya absolutely refused to say anything flat-out. "You sound like a kid," he growled. "Just say what you want. Or better yet, just do it."

"I'm sorry…"

"I already told you that _is _what I want," Bakugou went on. "I want you to fuck me."

Bakugou was glad he was looking in Midoriya's direction, because to see him blush and go wide-eyed so suddenly was immensely satisfying. It was a sort of power Bakugou had never had before, not over anyone he'd been with - a power he'd only ever wanted to have over this one person, anyways. "How do you want me?" he said, sitting up.

"I - I don't know," Midoriya said at last. Bakugou was glad that the balance seemed to have shifted; now he was in more familiar territory, and Midoriya was scrambling to find his footing. "I've never-"

"I _know _you've never done this with a guy. You only said it like ten times." Bakugou leaned over the side of the bed to grab his jeans and fish out what he'd stored in his pockets, condoms and lubricant. He handed the items to Midoriya. "It's not all that different than being with a girl," he said. "You just need more prep. I'll talk you through."

"Okay. Thank you."

_Thank you? _"You're fucking weird," Bakugou said. He pushed himself onto his hands and knees. The position made him feel incredibly exposed, but he liked it, too; he could see Midoriya's eyes roaming over his body, curious and interested. They'd seen each other before, of course, but not like this; Bakugou felt himself almost painfully on-edge with arousal and nervousness. He knew he was attractive - and that Midoriya felt attracted to him was obvious - but he wanted this to live up to every expectation. He wanted to be _flawless. _"Put some lube on your hand and stick your finger in me. Just one."

"Okay."

"...Fuck, that's cold."

"Are you okay?!"

"I'm fine, it's just cold," Bakugou said, grimacing and laughing. "Keep moving."

He felt Midoriya start moving, silent. Bakugou looked over his shoulder, but the angle wasn't great; he couldn't tell what expression Midoriya was making. After a moment he heard Midoriya's voice: "I can't believe it."

"What?" Unsettled, Bakugou strained to see his face. "What are you talking about?"

"I just can't believe we're finally doing this," Midoriya went on. "I'm _in you, _Kacchan."

"Oh." Bakugou laughed again, feeling himself relax. "Yeah. I feel the same way. Like - finally. Took us long enough."

"Yeah."

They were silent again. Bakugou felt himself grow more used to the sensation, and after a moment he said, "Two fingers."

"Huh?"

"Take your finger out, add more lube, and put two fingers in," Bakugou said. "Do I have to spell out everything for you?"

"It wouldn't hurt," Midoriya said, doing as he was told. A pause. "Kacchan, I'm nervous."

"You are?"

"Of course I am!" It was surreal to have this conversation as Midoriya actually moved his fingers inside him, but there wasn't really anything Bakugou could do to change the situation short of asking him to stop - which he absolutely did not want Midoriya to do. "What if I screw this up and I leave you with a bad memory and you don't even want to see me again? What if it goes badly and this is the last time we see each other for ages?"

"Hey," Bakugou said. "Hey. Relax." It came out a little breathier than he'd intended, but at least it made Midoriya stop talking. "It doesn't matter if you screw this up."

"Of course it does!"

"No, it _doesn't, _because I already said there will be another time," Bakugou said. "And besides…" He hesitated, knowing the words would sound terrible and cheesy, and going for it anyways. "I know it won't be bad, since it's with you."

"Kacchan…"

Bakugou would have thought being called by his childhood nickname during sex might have been weird, but it was actually turning out not to bother him at all. "I'm serious," he said. "Three fingers."

This time Midoriya did not ask what he meant. "Okay."

Bakugou felt the strain, the pleasure-and-pain feeling when it was very nearly too much. He gritted his teeth and gripped the bedspread more tightly. Maybe Midoriya sensed how he felt, because he paused to add even more lube before continuing.

"Okay," Bakugou said, a minute or so later. "You can do it now."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure," Bakugou said. "Why, are you not hard anymore?" He turned to look. Well, Midoriya definitely _was _still hard - that was a good thing. If he'd turned around only to see him completely soft, well, that would have been enough to make Bakugou hide his face in shame forever.

"Now you put on the condom," he said, brusque to keep his voice from shaking. "Do you know how to do that?"

"Of course I do!"

"Good, I'd hate to have to put it on you myself."

The look on Midoriya's face suggested he wouldn't have minded so much, but he was already nearly done putting it on. Bakugou might have to file that away for future use. "More lube," he suggested, and Midoriya nodded and obeyed. He had that determined look on his face again, and it made Bakugou grin. He knew Midoriya was as into this as he himself was.

"This position is fine," Bakugou said, looking forward again. "You should be able to handle it from here."

"Thanks _so _much, Kacchan," Midoriya said, voice thick with sarcasm, as he got into position behind Bakugou and lined himself up. The feeling of anticipation was one of Bakugou's favorite parts of sex. He tried not to tense up as Midoriya pushed inside him, felt the near-bruising pressure of his grip on Bakugou's hips as he slid inside. Even after prep, even with enough lube, there was still the feeling that it was almost too much, that his body had to stretch to handle it - Bakugou loved that feeling, the intensity of it, and bit his lip to keep from groaning aloud.

He wished he'd chosen a position that allowed him to see Midoriya. The only cues Bakugou got about how much he was enjoying it were the sounds he made - mostly just loud breathing - and the feeling of his hands, holding tight to Bakugou's hips as he continued to push inside.

"I'm completely inside you, Kacchan," Midoriya said. Bakugou could hear the smile in his voice. "It still seems unbelievable."

He never, ever, ever would have admitted it, but the pure delight Midoriya seemed to take in every part of the act made Bakugou's heart flutter. He wondered how similar they both were - whether Midoriya, like Bakugou, was trying to memorize the feeling, the smell, the sound of everything, to replay again and again later. "Shut up and just _move, _Izuku," Bakugou said, and he felt Midoriya give a jolt and do as he said.

It was rough and fast; Bakugou could hardly catch his breath, and definitely couldn't stop himself from making noises. This, this is what he'd been anticipating - this power, this utter raw strength. This was Midoriya, too, as much as the sweetness and gentleness and nervousness was. Bakugou held tight to the sheets beneath him, lowering his head with his ass still in the air, knowing he'd be ashamed if he could see himself now and not caring in the least.

"You feel so good," Midoriya said, and how the fuck could he still sound so composed and _happy _when he was the one doing the actual work? Bakugou tried to think of some snappy retort, but he could only bury his face in the mattress and groan.

"Would it be bad if I came now," Midoriya said, and Bakugou was glad, because there was _finally _a ragged edge in his voice, finally some evidence that Bakugou wasn't the only one falling apart.

"Go ahead," Bakugou said, and from behind him Midoriya inhaled sharply and tensed up - did he really _need _Bakugou's permission to orgasm? Had he been holding himself back? _He's so fucking weird _was Bakugou's last coherent thought before Midoriya reached forward to jack him off too, even as he himself was mid-orgasm. Midoriya didn't have a good grip on him, and the rhythm was strange, but it was enough; Bakugou felt his body clench, felt waves of pleasure as he rocked back against Midoriya, until they collapsed, sweaty and wet and sticky, in a heap on the bed.

"Kacchan," Midoriya said, "Kacchan," and of _course _Deku would be clingy after sex. But Bakugou couldn't say he minded, not really. Midoriya threw the condom onto some distant corner of the bed - well, _that _was gross, but at least Bakugou wasn't the one who'd be washing these sheets - and slumped next to Bakugou, tucking his face in against his neck, his arm thrown across his chest.

"I'm glad I said it before, so you know I'm not just saying this because of the sex. I love you." He nestled his face in deeper against Bakugou's neck, so close Bakugou could feel the movement of his lips as he spoke. "You don't have to say it back, don't worry."

"You know I'm still going," Bakugou said slowly, staring up at the ceiling. "You know I'm still flying out tomorrow. This doesn't change my plans."

"Yes, of course."

Bakugou nodded. He just wanted to make sure, didn't want Izuku thinking that hearing "I love you" would stop him. If Izuku had started trying to keep him in town, if he'd cried and begged and pleaded - it might have turned ugly, into an actual fight. Bakugou was glad to avoid that.

They lay there like that for several minutes, the sweat cooling and evaporating from their skin, their pulses slowing. After a long time, Izuku spoke again. "Kacchan?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"You just said that, dipshit," Bakugou said, rolling over onto his side so they lay face to face.

"It's nice to say it. I've been holding it in for so long."

Bakugou felt the same, but he kept the words inside him. Izuku had told him it was okay for him not to say it yet, after all. And Izuku, well - he probably already knew exactly how Bakugou felt.

* * *

Bakugou thought of it on the plane the next day. He thought of Izuku's lips on his, their chests pressed together. The rightness of it, the unity.

It wouldn't be long, he knew, before they'd see each other again. A month or two, tops. He just had to find a job, and Izuku would follow, and they would settle in together as if they'd never parted in the first place.

He'd been a fool to think he could live any other way.

* * *

**Author's Note: **If you're interested in more author's notes/commentary I did a post about my thoughts before/during writing this. You can find it on my tumblr, **doop2**.


End file.
